


The Sons of Summer

by NomnomnomDePlume



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 16:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NomnomnomDePlume/pseuds/NomnomnomDePlume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"he was eight years old when he first saw him with a shock, and a bang, and a fizzle and something that settled in his stomach and never really left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sons of Summer

he was eight years old when he first saw him with a shock, and a bang, and a fizzle and something that settled in his stomach and never really left. he was playing and he was playing, but they never played together. they laughed, but never together. they looked, but always seemed to miss each other. 

-

  
he was ten years old when he first saw him with something silly in his heart like a swoop and a stutter. he carried on playing with his friends, not with the baby across the street. he was a man now.

  
-

  
it was summer and it was radiant and there was something in the air... a small breeze that winter somehow hadn't managed to hold captive.

  
he was fifteen years old when he thought for the first time that he might understand beauty. beauty had no explanation it simply was- he simply was. 

it wasn't in the boys loose mocha curls, spring green eyes, or his delicate sugarplum mouth. it was the furrow in his brow and the set of his jaw- the way he could understand exactly what they meant just from looking at the other boy. no words needed or exchanged. he understood.

  
-

  
the day he first spoke to him was so like and unlike any that had ever been before. time had passed, things had happened, and fifteen felt like a lifetime ago.

  
he was cutting the grass for his mum when he saw her, a girl holding the beautiful boys hand. it was wrong. she wasn't supposed to be there, she didn't have the right. but she was and even more so the beautiful boy was holding her hand right back.

  
jealousy ruled and bubbled and spilled out of his mouth in the form of a quick "hi," before he turned and ran into the house. he never saw the boys interested confusion, never heard the girls mocking giggles.

  
he was sixteen years old the first time he had to hold himself together as his body shook apart with sobs. he was a man now.


End file.
